


In Want of a Warp

by Zebra (DQueenie13)



Series: Silque Makes Friends [2]
Category: Fire Emblem Echoes: Mou Hitori no Eiyuu Ou | Fire Emblem Echoes: Shadows of Valentia
Genre: Enemies to Friends, Gen
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-08-24
Updated: 2017-08-24
Packaged: 2018-12-19 07:32:47
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,785
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11892969
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/DQueenie13/pseuds/Zebra
Summary: Silque knew that her past would be discovered eventually. And while the man who knows her secret has no intention of telling anyone else about it, it's very clear that he does not trust her. Especially not when his mischievous yet talented younger sister is doing everything in her power to spend time with Silque.





	In Want of a Warp

One of the perks of being among relatively magic-illiterate companions was that it was easier to get away with having the “wrong” magic. Sure, Kliff decided to become a mage and Faye a cleric, but they didn’t know that much _history_ of magic. Silque was glad for this, because it meant that she wasn’t getting any questions about her mediocre healing ability despite being a cleric herself.

It also meant that when she finally mastered the Warp spell that her mother taught her, nobody asked questions. None of her companions realized that Warp was a spell only known among Rigelians, and not Zofians. None of her companions suspected her of being Rigelian, a woman from the country they were about to invade.

That wasn’t to say that she planned on betraying them. Rigel was no longer a country she could claim to belong to, not anymore. Yet she was still a foreigner to Zofia. It was this knowledge that made her nervous as the Deliverance approached the border between Zofia and Rigel. They’d stopped by a forest village, where they recruited a man by the name of Luthier. His sister was brainwashed and kidnapped by a Cantor of the Duma Faithful—the faith that she herself had followed, only a handful of years ago.

While the Deliverance was fortunate to have another mage on their side, it was a slight inconvenience for Silque. Luthier was a magic scholar, one who had been practicing the art since childhood. He knew her magic and its origins. For that, she could find no solace with him around.

He wasn’t harassing her, nor did he report his knowledge to Sir Alm or any other member of the Deliverance, perhaps because he himself was not good at dealing with others. But she knew, and suspected that he knew she knew, that he made sure he could always keep an eye on her. _Just_ in case.

_It’s alright, that’s a natural reaction when your sister was kidnapped. He’s just trying to help the Deliverance._

That’s what Silque told herself, but still, it hurt. She was used to it, but it hurt. Memories of her days in Novis Priory, where some of the more ill-willed orphans had hurled insults at her, whispered behind her back, even thrown things at her or set up traps and pranks for her resurfaced in her memories. Tears stung at her eyes, so she bit down on her lower lip and looked up to the sky to will the tears to go back in.

_No! You can’t show weakness. Not here. Not now. The Deliverance needs your skills. It needs someone who knows Rigel. It needs **you**. This is what Mother Mila sent you here for._

A cry pain came from behind her, snapping Silque out of her thoughts. The voice belonged to Sir Forsyth, and she saw him collapse to his knees. Luthier’s sister, Delthea, stood over him with eyes glazed over and a malefic aura surrounding her body. The Cantor, Tatarrah, must have taught her Rewarp, which she used to wreak havoc on the battlefield by teleporting behind their lines and striking their vulnerable units.

“Sir Forsyth!” Silque heard Faye call his name as she healed him from a distance with Physic. It was a Zofian spell, one she had tried many times to learn but failed every time. Luckily, Faye was able to learn it, because Forsyth was too far away for Silque to reach.

“Silque!” Hearing Alm call her name, she turned her head towards him. He was also standing a bit aways from her, but she would be able to reach him. “Send me to deal with her! Clair, you go take out Tatarrah! Everyone else, back her up, and make sure to stay close together!”

In the time that he took to relay his instructions, Silque ran over and began the incantation for Warp. She saw him disappear in a ray of light and reappear between Delthea and Forsyth.

“Stay… Down!” Alm landed a heavy blow on her, leaving her just barely alive. She wouldn’t be able to cast any magic this way, which meant they wouldn’t need to worry about her. However, Silque saw Alm’s face as he heard her cries of pain, as if he were feeling her pain himself. He was truly a kind person… But Delthea was still a Zofian girl who had been unjustly manipulated by a Rigelian. Who knew how he’d treat her if he found out about her heritage?

She forced herself to turn back to the battle. Even if she could only Recover her allies, any support was still support, and she’d work her hardest for them. Even if they came to despise her in the end.

 

* * *

 

When she saw Luthier and Delthea next, they were in the Sluice Gate and he was checking over her injuries. She overheard him insist that she see a healer, and out of curiosity, she deliberately walked past, leaving quite a bit of distance but still putting herself in their sight. Delthea noticed her first and beamed, starting to run over to her.

“Oh, a cleric! Hey, over here! I need—”

Luthier grabbed her wrist to pull her back, pushing her behind him. Silque didn’t know that nonexistent expectations could be crushed, but they were.

Delthea stared at her brother with a mix of annoyance and bewilderment. “Uh, Lu? You _just_ told me to find a healer, and now you don’t want me to be healed?”

“She’s… a different matter.”

“‘You need to be healed,’” Delthea mimicked, “‘But not by her!’ That makes no freaking sense, Lu!”

Silque quickly ducked away to hide both her giggle and her tears.

 

* * *

 

A week or so later, Silque had just finished helping with laundry when a voice called out to her.

“Heeey! You’re Silque, right? Sister Silque,” the voice corrected itself. She turned around and saw Delthea, and instantly knew that she was purposely interacting with her to rebel against Luthier. “You’re the one that uses Warp, right?”

“Huh…? Well, yes, I am,” she confirmed, with surprise in her voice. What was Delthea planning? “Is there anything I can help you with?”

“Well…” Silque worried what was about to come out of the girl’s mouth. “See, when I was under that creepy guy’s control, I was able to like, warp myself and stuff, and I vaguely remember how I did it. But I haven’t figured out how to make it work.”

“So you want to see if my Warp can teach you Rewarp?”

“Oh, is that what it’s called?”

_Oops._

Delthea continued, either not caring that Silque knew the name or not realizing the significance. “I mean, there has _got_ to be a way for me to learn it again, right? Just imagine: me, just sneaking up on the enemy and then BAM! There they go! …Kiiinda like what I did to you guys, or so Lu told me.”

Silque giggled. “That’s _exactly_ what it was like.”

Giving an awkward laugh, Delthea then pressed, “So… Wanna help me figure this thing out? C’mon! Make me _stronger!_ ”

“Alright, alright,” Silque giggled. Delthea could be self-centered, but at least she was fun. “I have some free time now. Where should we start…”

 

* * *

 

Unsurprisingly, Luthier confronted her about it that night after she finished her prayers. She was alone in front of the Mila Statue, which made her nervous, but he had the courtesy of not interrupting her prayers and so she was fairly certain he wouldn’t attack her.

“Sister Silque.”

“Oh, Luthier… Is this about Delthea?”

Luthier placed a hand on his chin, a characteristic pose of his. “Hmm. So you know what I came to you about.”

“I heard you quite clearly back at the Sluice Gate,” she informed him coolly, and she saw him bristle slightly. “And I know you’ve been keeping an eye on me since you’ve joined.”

“Then that saves us some time. _What_ are you teaching Delthea? I know full well of your…origins.”

Memories of her childhood with her mother, to her abandonment at Novis as an older child, to her teenage years, flooded back to her. Silque reined in her bitterness as she responded, “You know _nothing_ about me. Delthea came up to me of her own will. I am simply trying to help.”

“That was not my question.”

Of course, Silque knew that, but she was not going to capitulate and simply _answer_ him. She was not that weak. If he was going to talk to her, he was going to talk to her as an equal. Not a Rigelian.

“Could you not simply ask Delthea? Did she refuse to tell you?” He fell silent, and so she decided to answer his question. “She wanted to relearn the Rewarping spell that the Cantor gave her, using my Warp to try and remember the spell.”

There was an extended silence. Finally, Luthier hesitantly stepped to the side, letting her pass. Her mood had soured considerably, and hissed one final comment at him as she passed.

“Presume what you may, but Rigel is no home to me. And neither is Zofia, it seems.”

Luthier didn’t make eye contact with her.

 

* * *

 

As Silque left the room, she saw Python standing a short distance away, leaning against the wall. He straightened up as she approached, and walked down the hall with her in silence for several moments before speaking. “You good back there?”

He must have heard everything from where he was standing. “How long were you there for?”

“Since Luthier walked in,” he blithely admitted. “Well, I passed by when you told him about hearing him at the Sluice Gate. Then I came back when I heard him ask you about Delthea.”

She sighed. Python never could resist good gossip. “Well then, I suppose you heard everything else quite well?”

“Crystal clear,” he smirked. “What? I’m a good secret keeper.”

“Somehow, I doubt that…”

Python laughed. “Besides,” he shrugged, “who cares where you’re from? Nobody can really tell you’re Rigelian, can they? I mean, you’re surprisingly competitive when it comes down to things, and have some absurd stamina, but that’s just about it. I’d take you over any of those noble rabble in Zofia.”

She smiled wistfully. “If only everyone thought the same, Python.”

 

* * *

 

As she expected, Luthier remained as vigilant as ever in her presence, and she was only free of him in battle when Alm’s orders separated them to opposite sides of the battlefield. Once they got back to camp, though, she could expect his hawk eyes on her. However, he hadn’t confronted her since then, and he still seemed to have no interest in revealing her secret to anyone just yet.

“Uuughhhh! _Why_ won’t this _stupid spell_ just work already?!” Delthea stomped a foot into the ground in anger. The orange that she was trying to practice on sat in its original spot, not having budged in the slightest.

Silque taught her the spell for Warp, but neither of them were able to figure out how _Re_ warp worked. In the meantime, Delthea was trying to learn Warp so she could disassemble the spell from there, but found no success there either.

“I’m doing the right _everything_!” She yelled, at nobody in particular. “Why. Won’t. It. _Work_?!”

Silque could empathize with her. When she’d tried learning Physic, she met the same results and the same frustration. Some people just weren’t cut out for certain spells. For those who did not train to be a cleric from the start, combat-support spells were even more difficult to cast than pure offensive or pure healing spells. They needed a very specific “resonance,” so to say, to cast.

“Hey, Silque! Show me one more time!”

She sighed. They’d been going at it for an hour each day now, and it had already been five days since they started, with absolutely no progress. “Perhaps we should stop here, Delthea. You need your energy for the next battle.”

“No way!”, the girl protested. “Those guys are easy-peasy. I am _going_ to master this spell!”

Before Silque could reply, the crunching of dead leaves underneath feet caught their attention. Luthier stepped out. “The Sister is right, Delthea. It’s getting late. You should rest. If you suddenly become fatigued in battle, it wouldn’t bode well for you.”

“She has a _name_ , Lu,” Delthea says firmly in response, crossing her arms tightly over her chest. “It’s _Silque_.”

He hesitated, as if struggling to say it. “…Sil…Silque’s judgement is correct,” he said slowly. “There are many factors into casting magic. Perhaps your skills are simply not developed enough to use Warp.”

“That’s what practicing is for, didn’t you say that yourself?!”

Deciding to back Luthier, Silque spoke up. “Knowing when to rest is an importance part of training. Especially when it comes to magic. You can pull a muscle and be clear-minded, but mental fatigue will burden your body as well. Let’s call it a night.”

Delthea grumbled. “ _Fine_ ,” she conceded, “then I’m racing you back to camp, Lu! I know you won’t catch up!”

“Delthea, I am not—”

Before he could stop her, she’d already taken off with a start, not caring that he didn’t play into her little game (and probably expected such). Luthier and Silque stood in uncomfortable silence for a mere several seconds that felt like years to both of them.

Silque took it upon herself to break the silence. “Er…Is there…something you needed from me?”

“…No. Well, there _is_ something,” he corrected himself. “You are a cleric of Mila, are you not?”

Realizing how stupid his question was when he’d seen her pray to Mila every day, he hastily continued with “Of course you are. Tell me, do you know the Prayer of Promotion?”

Now that she thought about it, Silque realized she hadn’t used that prayer in a long time. With it, she could ask Mila to grant those worthy the ability to harness more strength. She’d done it for many members of the Deliverance now, but that was all before Luthier had joined them.

“Yes, I do. I’ve used it with the Deliverance several times.”

“Hmm… I see. Have a good night.”

Abruptly, Luthier bid her farewell and left, leaving her alone as the sun crept further down into the horizon.

 

* * *

 

The next morning, Delthea sat with abnormal patience on a tree stump as Luthier brushed her hair. (Even now, he was the only one allowed to touch it. He knew how she liked her hair done.) She swung her legs back and forth as he gently smoothed her strands, making sure he’d gathered her ponytail neatly.

“Ribbon, please.”

Delthea handed it to him, and he began tying her hair up.

“Hey, Lu?”

“Yes, Delthea?”

“Why _don’t_ you like Silque? You’ve had like, a thing with her ever since I’ve joined.”

He sighed. “She’s Rigelian, Delthea. I cannot trust Rigelians. Not after what they did to you.”

“How’re you so sure?”

“Warp is a spell learned only by clerics of the Duma Faithful. Its incantation and magical resonance has been a mystery to us Zofians since the Divine Accord.”

Delthea twisted to look at her brother after she felt him pull the ribbon taut. “But she’s a member of the Mila Faithful!”

“Now she is, yes. She knows the Prayer of Promotion, which is proof enough.”

 Bringing her knees up so she could cross them under her, Delthea mumbled, “The Prayer of Promotion… Dumaists don’t use it?”

Luthier’s expression darkened. “From what I hear, women have their souls sacrificed to become Witches, while men gain power by sacrificing their most loved ones.”

“Huh?!” Delthea’s face twisted in indignation. “Why are the _women_ the ones who need their souls sacrificed, huh?! Why can’t men be sacrificed?!”

“Women typically are more sensitive to magical resonance,” Luthier explained. “More complex spells like Warp, Expel, and Ragnarok, for example, are naturally easier for women to cast. A large part of your own talent lies in your magical resonance aptitude.”

Hearing her most dreaded word, _talent_ , Delthea hastily pushed Luthier on. “So? What’s that got to do with anything?”

“It’s likely that Dumaists believe sacrificing women’s souls is more rewarding for Duma. In other words…” His hand around her brush clenched. “That arcanist Tatarrah probably planned on sacrificing you for even more power, after using you to kill us all.”

She fell silent for a few seconds before slowly continuing, “…But Silque isn’t like that.”

“I know. Now I do.”

“Then shouldn’t you make it up to her?” Met with silence for an answer, she sighed and stood up. “This is why you can’t make friends, Lu. So I don’t wanna hear anything about people resenting _me_ when _you’re_ the one treating others like dirt, okay?”

Without waiting for him to reply, she started walking off.

“Delthea—”

“What _now_?”

“…Is…is that true? Am I really treating her like dirt?”

_Gods, does Lu even **think** about what he says sometimes?!_

Delthea gave an exasperated sigh. For all his lecturing, Luthier had a hard time recognizing his own faults sometimes. Not sometimes. Always.

“Uh, Lu, ever notice how you didn’t even say her name yesterday until I made? Calling her ‘the Sister’ to her face is like… I dunno, Alm calling you ‘the mage’ to talk about you when you’re standing right next to him.”

The perplexed look on Luthier’s face didn’t give Delthea much hope that her analogy got through to him. “Well, he wouldn’t be wrong, would he?”

“Ugh! I don’t even know why I’m bothering.”

“What?”

“You couldn’t even hold a normal conversation if you tried! Trying to explain all this is dumb!”

Before he could stop her, she stormed off on him, leaving him alone to dwell on her words.

 

* * *

 

It took Luthier several days to muster the will to approach Silque. Armed with conversation techniques he learned from Alm, he found her after she’d finished healing some of the soldiers from the day’s battle.

Trying to appear as though he found her by coincidence, he greeted her. “Ah, Sister Silque.”

“Oh, Luthier.” She seemed surprised, which he couldn’t blame her for after all that had happened. Since Delthea refused to educate him on his apparent breaches of etiquette, he was finally enlightened by Lukas about the errors of his ways. “Did you need something?”

“I do.” Realizing that he came off as blunt, and thus slightly hostile (or so Alm had said), he continued, “I was hoping you could teach me healing magic. Even with you and Faye around, the two of you can’t heal everyone in the army. Not to mention that we magic users naturally use up our own strength to cast magic, so…”

“So you want to keep Delthea out of danger of magic fatigue,” she finished, smiling.

“Er… yes.” Luthier didn’t think he was that obvious, but apparently, he was.

“Alright, when do you want to start?”

“Huh?”

“…Eh?”

Luthier hadn’t expected her to agree so readily, so his only response to her proposal was one of confusion, which was met by Silque’s own confusion.

Clearing his throat, Luthier recovered his thoughts. “I…Forgive me, I hadn’t expected you to acquiesce so quickly.”

Giving a small giggle, Silque explained, “Well, there’s no such thing as having too many healers. Besides, this is your way of apologizing for before, right?”

“H-how did you know…?”

“Python told me,” she responded, and Luthier glowered. Figures that the man would rattle to her; they had an unlikely friendship, one that Luthier wondered was born out of her need to cover Python’s rear end all the time.

She continued, “You’re free to join my training sessions with Delthea. As you know, she hasn’t progressed very far, though.”

Luthier gave a sigh of resignation. Delthea could be too stubborn for her own good sometimes. “Very well. Are you training tonight?”

 

* * *

 

Silque wasn’t sure what she expected when she took in Luthier as a student in healing magic, but now she knew that Delthea’s stubbornness definitely ran in the blood.

“It has been _weeks_! Why won’t this stupid spell _work_?!”

“Do healing spells not work on non-humans? This scratch is _miniscule_! Close up, already!”

It was proving to be a long hour. Delthea still couldn’t make the orange budge (it was a fresh one, of course; the last one was used as battle rations long ago), while Luthier was having as much trouble healing this cat as he was trying to keep it still.

Silque sat on a log, watching their efforts in bemusement when Lukas approached her.

“Sister Silque.”

“Oh, Lukas, did you need me?”

“No, I’m just watching your students. Perhaps you should establish a magic school after all this is said and done,” he suggested with amusement in his voice as the two siblings continued venting their frustrations.

“Surely you jest,” Silque returned with a wry smile. “I fear I am ill-suited for teaching.”

As if to prove her point, Delthea’s irate “ _Just warp already, stupid orange!_ ” pierced their ears, earning another chuckle from Lukas.

“I hear that some people cannot utilize certain spells or skills until being bestowed with a Prayer of Promotion. Perhaps we would have to try that?”

Silque sighed. “That seems the only likely method, at this rate. What about you?”

“Hm?”

“How is training going on your end?”

Lukas’ chuckle this time carried a hint of nervousness. “Well, Forsyth and Python are…the normal. Gray and Tobin are desperately trying to outdo each other despite specializing in different fields. Some of the newer recruits seem determined to best Mathilda. They also seem very determined to lose in spectacular fashion every time.”

“That’s Mathilda for you.”

“Very true.”

Silque noticed that Delthea stopped screaming at the orange to listen into their conversation when they brought up Mathilda’s name. Luthier, for his part, seemed to have befriended the cat but made no progress in his healing magic. (He was instead caressing the injured paw.)

“It looks like your students are tired of practicing for the day,” Lukas remarked as he noticed the same thing she did.

“It seems so,” Silque replied. “I’ll offer a Prayer of Promotion whenever Sir Alm deems them ready.”

Though the Deliverance intended on marching towards Rigel Castle, Alm had suddenly tore off and gone towards Fear Mountain. It was a name that Silque knew all too well, and though it was not her place to question Alm’s decisions, she didn’t know what he was thinking when he decided to head there. She had her suspicions, however, and hoped that Alm wasn’t too far gone as to neglect their duty.

 

* * *

 

Her fears proved unfounded, and the opportunity to test her and Lukas’ theory came much sooner than she expected. While clearing out the Fear Mountain Shrine, they stumbled upon a Mila Idol within one of the rooms.

Alm approached her while they were resting from the exploration. “Hey Silque, can you offer up Prayers of Promotion for a couple of our men? Our enemies are only going to get stronger as we go on. We need to make sure our soldiers can stay on par with them.”

She gave a curt nod and immediately began the prayer. As she prayed, she felt the room fill with Mila’s warmth, a sign of the blessings that would be bestowed upon them.

“…Delthea.”

“Huh? I get to go? Yippee!”

“Kneel in front of the statue, please.”

After she did so, a gentle light shone upon her, masking her body. Once it dispelled, Delthea’s attire was different—now one of a Priestess—and a sword was in her hand. Delthea blinked, and looked down.

“Whoa!” She jumped in the air slightly, surprised by her own change. “Okay, I know Gray said that Mila decks you out in all this new stuff, but I didn’t think she _really_ did! Lu, look! I have a sword!”

The only response she got out of it was a beleaguered “Oh no,” earning laughs from other soldiers in the room.

Luthier pat her head when she ran up to him. “Do you feel any other changes? Especially in magical ability?”

“Hmm… Oh! You, show me your arm!” She pointed at a soldier whose arm was wrapped in fresh bandages. Surprised by the sudden request, he readily complied. Delthea began an incantation, one that Silque knew very well. It was the Recover spell, which Silque hadn’t taught _her_ , but…

The wound knitted itself closed as the green aura of the Recover spell covered the man. Seeing the success of her spell, Delthea turned excitedly to her brother. “Lu, look! Look! I can use healing spells, too! Am I awesome or _what_?!”

“Hoh… When did you learn the incantation for Recover?”

“Oh, I overheard you when Silque was teaching you,” she beamed. “Easy as pie!”

Luthier gave an _I knew it_ kind of sigh. “These things always came easily to you.”

Python’s “Hoooly _mother_ , I… I was not expecting that!” interrupted them, and they turned to look. Python now sat astride a horse that had magically been bestowed by Mila. He laughed as he looked at Forsyth. “I think the Mother heard my prayers to not have to march anymore!”

“You might not want to rely on your horse too much for now,” Mathilda warned. “Your legs will be sore after riding, since you’re not used to it.”

“Mathilda,” he whined, “can’t you leave a man to dream for _one_ minute?” However, he hopped off his new horse and led it to the side to clear the path for the next person.

“…Luthier. Please kneel.”

Luthier wasn’t sure what being promoted by the Mother felt like, but for a brief second as light surrounded him, he felt like he was being lifted up. His robes suddenly felt like they gained some weight, and something within him told him to reach out. His fingers felt something solid, and he wrapped them around it. As the light faded, he saw that he had grasped a staff, and he had indeed gained some new robes.

“Lu! You got a staff!” Delthea exclaimed in wonder, though she quickly added, “It’s not as cool as my sword, though.”

“Don’t wave your sword around like that. You’ll hurt someone.”

“No, I wo—ow!” As if on cue, she nicked a finger on the blade. “Did Mila give you the power to make me injure myself to prove a point?!”

He sighed. “No, I did not. Now, show me your finger.” Pouting, she did so, and he cast the same Recover spell she just did, causing the cut to heal. Seeing that her hand was fine now, he used his staff to give her a gentle tap on the forehead. “ _That_ was for not listening to my warning. And you’re not the only one who can heal people now, too.”

“Hee hee, thanks, Lu!” Delthea threw her arms around her brother’s waist and pressed her face into his robes. “Mila’s robes are soooo soft!”

Silque stepped next to them with a giggle. “I see that you’ve gotten your wish granted, Luthier.”

“Yes.” He smiled at her with a satisfaction that she hadn’t seen cross his face before. “And it’s thanks to you.”

“Oh, no, it was all the Mother’s will.”

His response caught her off-guard. “You shouldn’t cut yourself short. You’ve taught me much more than just the Recover spell. Even if it was by Mila’s will, you agreed to be her mediator. Is that not commendable in itself?”

“I...”

Delthea interrupted the two. “Oh, enough of that mushy stuff! Let’s focus on the _important_ stuff! Silque, when am I gonna learn Rewarp?!”

The two of them laughed. “Oh, Delthea,” Silque said in between giggles. “It might not be for a long while yet.”

“Huh?! Mila! Gimme Rewarp _now_!”

“You speak like that, Delthea, and she won’t let you learn it until even later.”

“Ugh, don’t give me that, Lu!”

For the first time since Silque had stepped foot in Rigelian soil again, the thought of being shunned for her heritage didn’t cross her mind. Being with Luthier and Delthea now reminded her of her happier days in Novis, of the banter between a certain pink-haired mage and her white-haired companion. When she first received the order from Mila to hand her Turnwheel over to Alm, she hadn’t understood why she was being sent on this journey. Now, she was starting to understand.

She wasn’t going to let anything take away her newfound friends. Not the war against Rigel, not the witch she knew they were inevitably going to fight at the top of Fear Mountain. Nuibaba may have taken away her real family, but Silque wasn’t going to let her take away her new one.

**Author's Note:**

> I cannot believe someone beat me to Silque+Luthier content. Also, Delthea learns Rewarp as a level 10 Priestess. Sonya learns it at level 5. ~~Luthier was right.~~
> 
> As for the Silque-Nuibaba enmity I set up at the very end of the story, I intend to get to it in another story, but I've had this headcanon for a long time. It may or may not have been sparked by a meme.


End file.
